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The 

Good Old Days 

A Pageant of Country Life for Field Day 

Meetings Patriotic Celebrations 

and Other Occasions 



By 
Mary Meek Atkeson 



Copyright, 1922, by Orange Judd Publishing Company 



New York 

Orange Judd Publishing Company 

1922 






Copyright 1922, 

by 

Orange Judd Publishing Company 



Printed in the United States of America 



FOREWORD 

Nothing Is so important in the training of young 
Americans as a sympathetic understanding of the 
early days of our country and of the mettle of those 
hardy pioneers who led it into paths of greatness. 
In this simple pageant-play the writer has tried to 
give vitality not only to that vigorous life of the 
past but also to some of our hopes for the future, 
by presenting them in such form that all the young 
folks of any neighborhood can take part. And the 
presentation of the pageant will furnish the occasion 
for one of those hearty democratic and co-operative 
good times which have been the glory of our 
American community life In every period of our 
history. 



GENERAL SUGGESTIONS FOR THE 
PAGEANT 

The Pageant Field 

The pageant field should be chosen with care for 
the beauty of the setting and the comfort of the 
spectators. It may be a good-sized opening among 
the trees of a grove, a beautiful spot near a stream, 
or an open meadow with a hill or trees for a back- 
ground. The players should, if possible, appear 
down a vista so that they are seen for a few minutes 
before they reach the field. Their exit, however, 
should be as brief as possible. 

A natural background of trees and shrubs, with 
shrubbery to hide the exit, is most desirable. Where 
the natural growth Is too open a few evergreen 
trees may be cut down and set in the open spaces. 
Where an artificial background is necessary it may 
be made of wire fencing, the wire hidden completely 
with boughs of evergreens. 

One of the most important things in a pageant 
is continuous action. The players must enter the In- 
stant the interlude characters have ceased speaking. 
Since all bulky properties In Episodes I and II are 
carried on and off by the players, the management of 
the field Is simple. The pedestal for the Spirit of 
THE Future In Episode III may be made of two 

3 



4 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

shallow boxes covered with green paper or burlap. 

The writer has endeavored to make a pageant 
which can be used under a great variety of conditions. 
The form In which It Is here presented is suitable for 
a small field, or indoors, with a crowd of spectators, 
not too large to be within hearing distance of the 
speakers. 

In general the larger the pageant and the ex- 
pected crowd the fewer the lines that can be spoken 
effectively, so some judicious cutting of speeches Is 
often necessary. For outdoor presentation before 
a small crowd only the Stranger's Indian story and 
a few of the minor short speeches would need to be 
omitted. If the crowd is to be very large the 
Story-Man and the Spirit of the Future may be 
the only speakers — the children expressing them- 
selves by gestures and the action of the Episodes 
being exaggerated somewhat, as in moving pictures, 
and presented without words. In fact, the whole 
pageant could be given effectively without words if 
the program made clear to the audience the meaning 
of Episodes and Interludes. 

Any characters who have speaking parts in an 
outdoor pageant must be chosen primarily for the 
force, clearness and distinctness of the speaking 
voice. 

When the pageant is given indoors the Pioneer's 
schooner and the horses may be omitted. By the 
change of a few words the travelers may be repre- 
sented as having left their wagon on the trail while 
they sought a camping place. If the pageant field 
includes a str*eam they may arrive in flatboats and 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 5 

canoes, and the Spirit of the Future may make 
an effective appearance In a small gilded boat. 

As to Its historical accuracy, the pageant will ap- 
proximate the story of almost any community, but 
local touches may be added. For instance, the 
Hunter In Episode I may become Daniel Boone, 
Davy Crockett, or whoever was the famous Indian 
scout of that locality. In like manner specific names 
and characteristics may be given to other characters, 
and local descendants of those historical persons 
may be asked to play the parts. 

The number of players may vary from fifty to two 
hundred or more, according to the size of the field 
and the number of persons available. A small 
pageant may include very few players besides the 
speakers, and a large pageant may have many play- 
ers without speaking parts. 

DRESS 

Prologue and Interludes 

The Story-Man: Knickerbockers, woolen hose, 
loose, belted jacket and pointed cap, all in brown. 
Belt and bindings of cap and jacket of dull green. 
Long staff of freshly peeled green wood, a part of 
the bark left at the top to form a design. 

Girl: Pink dress. Hair in ribbon-tied braids or 
curls. Broad-brimmed hat with ribbons. 

Boy: Blue suit. Carries a boy's light rifle. 

The Bogy-Man: Dressed in gray rags. Cap 
of rags, falling over his face at appropriate times. 



6 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

Hands and face marked with gray chalk in fan- 
tastic designs. 

Episode I 

Pioneer and Stranger : Rough, ill-fitting trousers 
of jean or homespun, held up by one ^'gallus" of 
jean over a shirt of bright color, open at the 
neck. Heavy boots. Round cap of jean. 

Women: Dresses of dark colors with straight 
waists and full skirts. Aprons of contrasting 
color. Slat bonnets on their heads. 

Children: Dressed much like their elders, but 
more ragged, and their clothes either too big or 
too httle. 

Hunter : Suit of brown buckskin — Canton flannel 
or similar material, with fringed edges on sleeves, 
trousers and jacket. Moccasins and coonskin cap, 
tomahawk and scalping knife showing at belt. 

Indians : Dress similar to that of the Hunter but 
lighter in color. Decorations of bright colors, 
and headdresses of feathers. Faces and hands 
copper color with blue and yellow war paint. 

Episode II 

Men: Ill-fitting jean trousers, fronts and backs 
made just alike. Bright shirts, open at the neck. 

Women : Full-skirted calico dresses with white ker- 
chiefs at the neck. Hair in braids, tied with bits 
of calico. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 7 

Older Women: Dark dresses, white aprons, ker- 
chiefs and caps. 

Children: Awkwardly dressed, much like their 
elders. 

Fiddler: Rusty black, long-skirted coat, baggy 
trousers, long hair. 

Episode III 

The Spirit of the Future: Greek robe of fine 
white material. Small crown and girdle of silver. 

Children : Organization groups in uniform dress. 
Other children in light colors. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR MUSIC 

It is often well to arrange a special dance or a 
fancy drill of some kind for the beginning of the 
pageant program. This gives time for the late- 
comers to enter and the crowd to become quiet be- 
fore the pageant is begun. 

Episode I 

We Cross the Prairie as of Old, words by J. G. 
Whittier. Sung to hymn tune "St. Anne." In- 
cluded in "Hymns of Home Missions and Patriot- 
ism," five cents. The Century Company, New York 
City. 

Barbara Allen and The Barnyard Song included 
in "Lonesome Tunes of the Kentucky Mountains," 
H. W. Gray and Company, 2 West 45th Street, 



8 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

New York City. "Barbara Allen" is also to be 
found in many collections of old songs. 

Episode II 

Any form of country dance may be used for Pop 
Goes the Weasel and Old Dan Tucker j and a local 
fiddler can usually be found who can play and "call" 
both to perfection. Music and a full description of 
both dances, with proper calls, are included In 
"American Country Dances," Vol. I, G. Schirmer 
and Company, New York City. Cheap editions 
of the music only can be secured from S. T. Gordon 
and Son, 13 East 14th Street, New York City. 

For variety, some of the games may be danced to 
hand-clapping, led by the Fiddler or by some on- 
looker. Some local expert can easily teach the art 
to the other players. 

Episode III 

My Own United States, by Julian Edwards, M. 
Witmarks and Sons, New York City. The words of 
this song should be printed on the program so that 
the spectators can join in the final chorus. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

A Pageant of Country Life for Field Day Meetings, 
Patriotic Celebrations and Other Occasions 

By Mary Meek Atkeson 

Prologue 

A Girl and a Boy come out slowly as if taking a 
stroll. The Boy carries a light rifle and the Girl is 
swinging her hat by the ribbons. After a moment 
they notice the Story-Man approaching from the op- 
posite direction. He carries a long cane or staff of 
green wood and is poking about with it inquisitively 
at all the trees and rocks. 

Girl: Look there! Who's that? 

Boy: Oh, that's the Story-Man who lives over 
the hill. He's been there always, I guess. They say 
he knows the best stories about just everything there 
is. 

Girl: Goody! Goody! Maybe he'll tell us one. 
You ask him. 

[As the Story-Man draws near the Boy ap- 
proaches him rather timidly. 1 

Boy: Good day, sir. We thought maybe you 
knew a story you would tell us. 

Story-Man (jo suddenly that the children 

9 



10 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

jump): Stories! Tell stories! The land sakes, 
child, there are stories all about you. 

Boy: {looking round him) : I see some trees and 
some grass — and you — and sister here 

Girl {positively) : And that's every single thing 
there Is to see. 

Story-Man {shaking his head sadly) : Maybe 
so, maybe so. You're just like all the rest. You see 
what you see — when what you ought to do Is to see 
what you don't see. 

Boy: That's just being silly. 

Story-Man {dropping his stick and waving his 
arms at them) : You're blind. You're deaf, I tell 
you ! You ought to use your other eyes and other 
ears. 

Boy {feeling about his head) : My other eyes? 

Girl : Why, I've got two. That's all that any- 
body has. 

Story-Man: Maybe so, maybe so. Some folks 
see only what they see and some folks see the past 
in the present. Even that tree, there, you'd know 
better if you saw It In the forest where It used to 
be. How can you know your country unless you 
see it as It was long, long ago? Now, tell me 
that? 

Girl {eagerly to boy) : He is going to tell us a 
story I 

Boy {impatiently) : Keep still! 

Story-Man {waving his staff as if it were a magic 
wand) : This is a forest glade. There's a great 
wood round us — the trees are so huge and tall the 
sunshine falls in little spots among the branches. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS ii 

This Is the Great Wilderness and there is not a 
sign of any human being as far as you can see. ( The 
children look about them timidly.) There are wild 
animals In the forest, though, and wilder In- 
dians 

Girl: Oh, Tm afraid. 

Boy {shouldering his gun importantly) : I'm notl 
I like It. 

Story-Man {putting a protective arm about the 
Girl and pointing with his staff) : But see there? 
White men have already come this way. I see their 
tracks on the grasses. They have lived over yonder 
— along the great ocean — but now they are coming 
through the forest to the West. 

Boy {brandishing his gun) : That's what I'd like 
to do. I could kill Indians! {Suddenly losing his 
courage and starting back fearfully.) What is that? 

[The Bogy-Man, dressed in grayish rags and 
with long gray hair and beard, has appeared 
from among the bushes so silently that he seems 
to have come up out of the ground. He moves 
toward them and shakes his fists threateningly.^ 

The Bogy-Man {wailing): You-oo-oo! 

[The Girl screams and. hides behind the Story- 
Man in terror.'] 

Boy: Who is he? {He shrinks back, dropping 
his gun. The three retreat somewhat toward the 
side of the field. ) 

Story-Man: Ho, ho! No wonder you're 
scared. Folks are afraid of him everywhere. 

\He motions the Bogy-Man back with his staff, 



12 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

and draws the fearful children toward the cen- 
ter again.l 
Story-Man : Now shut your eyes. Now laugh. 
{The children laugh nervously. The Bogy-Man 
shudders and slips out.) Now he's gone. 

Boy {shamefacedly picking up his gun) : But 
who Is he? 

Story-Man {shaking his head and walking round 
in a circle) : Don't ask me — -don't ask me. Ask me 
no questions and I tell you no lies. How should I 
know, I'd like to know? How should I know, I'd 

like to know? How should I 

Boy {interrupting) : Listen! What Is that 
sound? 

Story-Man {stopping suddenly) : They are 
coming! Some pioneer Is braving the dangers of 
the forest on his way to the Great West. Come ! 
You shall see what you shall see. Use all your eyes 
and ears ! 

[He leads the children of at right as Episode I 
begins. The children are full of curiosity and 
hang hack to look and listen as the pioneers 
approach.} 

Episode I 

To the West 

The episode begins with a far-off song, more vig- 
orous than tuneful, the creaking of a wagon and the 
cracking of a whip, as the schooner of the emigrant 
comes in sight. The Pioneer walks beside the 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 13 

team, cracking his blacksnake whip and singing lust- 
ily. The Woman and the children in the wagon join 
the song at times. Songf 

We cross the prairie as of old 
The pilgrims crossed the sea, 

To make the West as they the East, 
The homestead of the free. 

We're flowing from our native hills 

As our free rivers flow; 
The blessing of our mother land 

Is on us as we go. 

We'll tread the prairie as of old 

Our fathers sailed the sea, 
And make the West as they the East, 

The homestead of the free. 

[As they reach the pageant field the Pioneer 
looks about him critically in all directions, peer- 
ing into the forest as if judging the lay of the 
land for a camp. The Woman and children 
lean from the wagon and crane their necks to 
see the place. 1 
Pioneer {rather doubtfully) : I reckon this 
here's as good as we'll git — and the team's got to 
rest a bit. There's wood for fire and water over 
yonder. {Points to right.) 

Woman: No place for a fight, If the redskins'd 
come. 

Pioneer {scornfully) : There ain't no Injuns 
this side the 'Ghany. Reckon I'd be a goln' on like 



14 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

that if they was ? Git out, all o' you, and git to work. 
[The Woman climbs down and begins gathering 
wood for a fire, splitting up some dry hark for 
kindling and laying a circle of stones or heavy 
pieces of wood to keep the breezes away. Then 
she lights the fire with flint and tinder. The lit- 
tle children run about happily, as if glad to be 
released from the confinement of the wagon. 
They hide from each other behind the shrubs 
and pretend to shoot with sticks.^ 
[The Pioneer unhitches the team and leads the 
animals out to water at right. Although there 
is no danger near they keep the guns at hand 
and all seem alert and watchfuL The Woman 
drives two forked sticks into the ground, one on 
each side of the fire, and lays across them a 
white-oak stick run through a chunk of venison. 
Pieces of dark bread are brought from the 
wagon. The children shell some corn and lay 
the grains on a flat stone in the fire to parch. 
The older children bring things from the wagon 
and one fetches a bucket of water from the 
right. As they gather round the fire they are 
startled by the sound of broken twigs behind 
them.'\ 
Pioneer: What's that? [He snatches up his 
rifle and stands on guard. The Woman and chiU 
dre7t draw back fearfully. A man and a woman on 
horseback enter, leading a' heavily laden pack horse.l^ 
Stranger: Howdy, friend? 
Pioneer : 'Nother jump and you'd got a dose o' 
hot lead — ^blamed if you wouldn't. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 15 

Stranger {laughing) : You must valey that 
there topknot o' yourn, you're so skeered o' losin* 
hit. 

Pioneer {rubbing his head) : Best hair I got. 
Where you bound for ? 

Stranger: Li ckin' Crick. WhereVeye? 

Pioneer: 'Bout the same. Light down. 

Stranger: Thanky', sir. Glad to. 

[The Stranger, a tall, lank man, drops off his 
horse and his Wife, a slatternly, meek-looking 
person, climbs down stiffly and takes a seat by 
the fire. Then the Stranger leads out the 
horses and returns, bringing food from his 
packsaddles.'\ 

Stranger : The worst thing in these here woods 
is a b'ar or a painter. I hain't had a Injun scrim- 
mage for so long I'm kinder hankerin' for it, blamed 
if I ain't. 

Woman {fearfully) : We don't want no scrim- 
mage of no kind. [The men cut slabs of meat with 
their scalping knives from the piece roasting over 
the fire and gnaw hungrily at it and at the dark 
bread, wiping the grease from their fingers on their 
trousers from time to time. The Woman is busy 
eating and giving food to the hungry children."] 

Pioneer {gulping a drink of water from the 
bucket) : Venison's dry eatin' with no bar grease 
to slide her down. I ain't took time to hunt and a 
bar ain't come my way. 

Stranger : Pemmican's wuss. I've et pemmican 
nigh onto three weeks at a stretch. 

Pioneer: You been far in the woods? 



i6 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

Stranger: Plumb to the far edge. It's like a 
paradise out there. Big prairies of grass and posies 
for the buffaloes to feed on; no trees to chop down, 
and salt licks with traces o' varmints so thick the 
ground's pounded hard like the street in a town. 
A fellow has elbow room a-plenty out there. 

Pioneer: Good corn land, I reckon? 

Stranger: Fine land a-plenty for the takin' it 
up. {At a sound from the forest somewhat nearer 
than before, the Woman starts up and the men 
Ms ten intently.) 

Pioneer (laconically) : Painter! 

Stranger: I had a ruckus with a painter, last 
winter's a year, I hain't fergot yit. {The others 
listen eagerly. He picks up a stick and whittles with 
his scalping-knife as he talks.) One day I was 
a-goin' along and up I come on the biggest yaller 
painter I ever see — eatin' on a deer he'd killed. 
Well, Streaker, my dog, he was arter him full yelp 
right into a thicket of laurel when the painter he 
tuck up a saplin' and looked down like he's goin' to 
jump. I was a-lopin' along that-a-way when I see 
a big buck Indian slippin' up on me with his piece 
ready. 

Well, off I split around the painter and here come 
the red devil a-bustin' right under the saplin'. And 
that there painter, he just spraddled out and down 
he come all cat-er-claws — him a-lettin' one big yowl 
and the Injun lettin' a bigger one. He trips up in the 
laurel bresh, and over they went a-rasslin' like two 
old he-cats a-fightin'. 

Pioneer Boy {eagerly) : What did you do? 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 17 

Stranger: Well, I just thunk as how It wa'n't 
no painter o' mine, noway, so Streaker and me — we 
tuck the back track home. 

Pioneer {chuckling) : I'd like to a' been there. 
I shore would. 

Stranger {hands the rude doll which he has 
whittled to one of the little children and pulls out a 
tuning fork from his pocket) : Want a tune? \^He 
sings :] 

In Scarlet Town where I was born, 
There was a fair maid dwellin'. 

Made every youth cry "Well-a-day!" 
Her name was Barbara Allen. 

All in the merry month of May, 
When green buds they were swelling 

Young Jemmy Grove on his deathbed lay, 
For love of Barbara Allen. 

So slowly, slowly she came up, 
And slowly came she nigh him. 

And all she said, when there she came: 
"Young man, I think ye're dyin'." 

Pioneer Boy: Can't you do another one? 

Stranger {flattered) : I've sung a many a one 
in my time. I tell you what. [He pauses, strikes 
the tuning fork again , and begins to sing : 

I had a cat and the cat pleased me, 
I fed my cat under yonder tree, 
Cat goes fiddle-i-fee. 



.i§ THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

I had a hen and the hen pleased me, 
I fed my hen under yonder tree, 
Hen goes chim-my-chuck, chlm-my-chuck, 
Cat goes fiddle-i-fee. 

I had a duck and the duck pleased me, 
I fed my duck under yonder tree. 
Duck goes quack-quack, 
Hen goes chlm-my-chuck, chim-my-chuck, 
Cat goes fiddle-i-fee. 

\^The others join in the refrain and the children 

clap their hands with delight. In the midst of 

the song the hushes crackle and they all start up. 

The Hunter, in coons kin cap and buckskin 

clothing, enters warily. ~\ 

Hunter: I ain't no varmint, but I mought 'a' 

been. Shet up yer racket. Them Injuns'll git ye 

sartin. 

Pioneer : Injuns ! 

\_He seizes the bucket of water and throws it on 

the fire. The women catch up the food and 

utensils and hurry the whimpering children tO' 

ward the wagon.^ 

Hunter : Scoutin' party dropped down the river 

at sunup this mornin'. I been on their traces ever 

since and they wasn't fur off when I heard yer racket 

over here. 

Stranger: 'Pears like a fight to me. 
Pioneer {handling his gun nervously) : I heard 

a "gobble, gobble," just now. It might be them 

Hunter: Keep the women in the wagon and 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 19 

make the younguns lay down low. Keep a bullet 
in yer mouth, and yer powder handy. An empty 
gun is the wust thing In creation in a rumpus. 

[The women are loading an extra gun in the 
wagon and cutting bullet patches of cloth for 
the use of the men. The men feel the edges of 
their tomahawks and scalping knives and look 
about for trees to hide behind. At a fnovement 
to the left the men slip behind hushes and watch 
tensely.'] 
[Immediately several Indians fire and rush upon 
them. The men dash forward and there is a 
fierce fight, shifting back and forth across the 
field. One Indian falls and is dragged back by 
his companions.'] 
[The men breathe heavily and utter exclamations 
as they fight. A child cries out in the wagon, 
then stops suddenly as if a hand had been placed 
over its mouth.] 
[The Stranger drops his shot pouch and has to 
chop bits from a chunk of lead to reload his 
piece. The Pioneer tears bits from his shirt 
for wadding. The Hunter and an Indian 
have a hand-to-hand encounter. He gets the 
Indian down and is in the act of cleaving his 
head with his tomahazvk when another Indian 
throws himself upon him and they roll over and 
over in the struggle. The Stranger falls, shot 
through the shoulder. His WiFE jumps down 
and shoots from behind the wagon. Then the 
Indians give back and the Hunter and the 
Pioneer rush out after them.l 



20 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

Hunter {as he runs out) : Take that, ye ever- 
lastin' varmints! 

[For a moment nothing is heard hut the groans 

of the wounded man and the stifled sobs of his 

Wife, who has run to him and lifted his head 

a little. The Woman peers from the wagon y 

hut sensibly stops to reload her gun before she 

descends. 1 

Hunter (returning) : They cleaned out down 

the crick. If my powder had a-held out I'd 'a' got 

the last tarnal red devil of 'em all. 

Stranger's Wife: Oh, is he killed? 

[The Hunter goes to the Stranger and pulls 

hack his shirt."] 
Hunter {shaking his head) : Ball's gone clean 
through, I reckon. He'll pull out after a bit. Here's 
some spikenard tops I just now hit on. It's the 
soothinest poultice in the hull woods. 

[He bruises the plant between two stones and 

helps the Wife bandage the shoulder with it.~\ 
Wife: How we'd a-done without the help you 
give us 



[The Hunter shrugs his shoulders and goes to 
help the Pioneer, who is clearing a place in 
the wagon. They lift the wounded man in and 
his wife climbs in beside him. Then they bring 
in the horses and hitch them up and the 
Woman and the older children climb on the 
Stranger's horses."] 

Pioneer {looking about him doubtfully) : I'm 
turned all about. 

Hunter {wetting his finger in his mouth and 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 21 

holding it over his head) : Wind's to the west. 
( Then he looks carefully at the trunks of the trees. 
Points to right.) That's your way. Keep up the 
crick a spell and then bear over to the right. You 
ort to hit the river by dark, I reckon. I'll traipse 
along. 

Pioneer {as Hunter seems to he leaving) : It's 
a sight, the good you done us in the fight. 

Hunter : I've fit Injuns these ten year and Fm 
alius lookin' for a tussle. See thar. 

[^He points to his gun barrel, and the Pioneer 
reckons up the notches, each standing for an 
Indian victim. '[ 
Pioneer {soberly) : It's a long way. 
\_He has apparently spoken of the line of notches, 
but he looks off down the trail which he is to 
travel to the west and is lost in thought. The 
Hunter slips off quietly into the forest, and 
the Woman and children wait patiently."] 
Pioneer {rousing himself and taking a look at 
the priming of his gun) : It's a long way, but it's a 
great country out there. Gee, there, Jerry, git ap ! 
[The schooner and the group of pioneers move 
out slowly to the west.] 

Interlude I 

[As the Story-Man and the children return the 
Girl rubs her eyes.] 

Boy {staring down the trail the pioneers have 
taken, and shouldering his gun) : I'd like to go with 
them and fight the Indians. 



22 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

Girl {fearfully) : And did all the little children 
get killed by the Indians? 

Story-Man: Oh, my, no. Those folks settled 
down in the West and built their cabins and cleared 
their corn patches — and others came and built their 
cabins and cleared their corn patches, until there 
wasn't any chance for the Indians to hurt them any 
more. 

Boy: How did they build their cabins? 

Story-Man : Out of the big trees they cut down, 
the holes well chinked with mud and the chimneys 
of cat-and-clay. They were good, warm houses, 
too, and I guess the hard work they had just made 
their frolics all the sweeter. 

Boy: Oh, let us see them, too! 

Story-Man: The red men have gone long ago 
and the people of the settlements are happy. Every- 
body helps everybody else to work and to play in 
their backwoods fashion. Even* the great dark for- 
est has gone. 

Boy {looking about him) : Why, things don't 
look the same, do they? 

Story-Man {waving his stick) : This is a back- 
woods clearing. Those big charred stumps are all 
that is left of the huge forest trees. 

Girl (as a faint sound of music comes from the 
distance) : Listen! I think I hear something! 

Story-Man (cocking his head and peering out at 
entrance) : Now, maybe you do, honey, maybe you 
do. It sounds to me as if some sort of frolic was 
a-brewing. 

Girl {as the Bogy-Man steals out from the 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 23 

bushes): Oh, there he Is again! I'm afraid! 
Boy: Who? (Looking round.) Oh! 
[They run to one side fearfully as the Bogy-Man 
advances, stretching out his long arms, from 
which the sleeves hang in tatters, 1 
Boy (indignantly) : He'll keep the settlers from 
coming here. (To Story-Man) : Take your stick 
and drive him out! 

Story-Man: I'd like to, child (shaking his head 
sadly), but it would take a bigger stick than mirie'toi 
drive him out. 

Boy : But who is he — who Is he ? 
Girl (as the Bogy-Man disappears) : I don't 
care who he is — now he's gone. 

Boy (listening) : He's scared them clear away 
now. 

Story-Man : Oh, no, I guess not. Listen ! The 
music has begun again. Now, If you'll look sharp it 
may be that you'll see some of the fun the cabin 
people had in the clearings long ago. 

[As the children hang hack, delightedly capering 
to the music, he laughingly pretends to drive 
them before htm with his staff until they are off 
the field. ~\ 

Episode II 

A Settlement Frolic 

[A merry group of settlers approaches. First 
comes the old Fiddler, dressed in a greenish 
suit which has once been black, his long hair 
hanging about his shoulders. He is sawing 



24 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

away the tune of Sourwood Mountain on **Ole 
Sal," his fiddle, which he holds firmly against 
his chest. ~\ 

[Behind him come the backwoods gallants in jean 
trousers and bright shirts, carrying great bas- 
kets of corn. They jostle each other in fun and 
each tries to show his physical prowess by car- 
rying his basket in some new and difficult way. 
One, who has been putting on the most airs, 
drops his basket and spills the corn near the 
edge of the pageant field. The calico-dressed 
girls enter a little more demurely, but teasing 
each other and giggling self-consciously. The 
older people carry little children on their shoul- 
ders* or lead older children. Some of the group 
carry rough three-legged stools for seats. 
There is a great deal of joking and laughter 
when the awkward fellow spills his corn,'\ 

Fiddler {turning about to look at the ground) : 
Here's the spot. All down! 

\_The young men set down their baskets in two 
groups or sides, between which the girls wait 
expectantly.^^ 

[The Fiddler chooses captains for the two sides. 
The captains then choose the others, calling out 
the backwoods names lustily — Betsey, Sal, 
Nancy, Jane, Elly, Gabe, Hank, Bill, 
LiGE, Zip. The older people stand looking on 
or sit on the stools, at times watching the husk- 
ers and at times, as is shown by their gestures, 
telling exciting tales of Indians, wild cats and 
Mother backwoods dangers. The children run 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 25 

in and out and get in the way generally. Finally 

they snatch some corn, shell it and, with the 

grains, play lack-stones or other games in the 

foreground. One hoy shells a handful of the 

grains, and puts them down the hack of another, 

who makes laughable attempts to shake them 

out. A grandmother rolls up the corn husks 

into dolls, with corn silk for hair, for the little 

girls to play with.'] 

[Meanwhile the young people husk the corn, 

throwing the husks into one pile, the ears into 

another, and trying to see who can empty the 

basket first. 0*nce or twice a girl finds a red 

ear and is kissed by the nearest youth amid the 

laughter of the others. The fellows tease the 

girls for trying to find red ears instead of 

working.] 

One: She'll be an old maid shore. She ain't 

found nary a red one yet ! 

[Sometimes one tries to shift some of his corn 
to another basket and there is a scuffle when it 
is replaced. One teasingly catches a girVs long 
braid and wraps it round her head over her 
mouth. She sputters, slaps him vigorously, and 
tells him, *'Leave me be!"] 
\The Fiddler loudly announces the winning side. 
The young folks on that team cry tauntingly : 
*'Slow poke, slow poke, go get an ox yoke!" 
LiGE and Zip find red ears at the same moment 
and both try to kiss the same girl. ZiF strikes 
LiGE, and they clinch. The others stand behind 
them in a semicircle as they wrestle, making 



26 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

comments and seeming much amused at the 
spectacle.'] 

LiGE : You'll git that face o' yourn trimmed up 
for a funeral. Blamed if you don't. 

Zip: You're an eternal liar! 

Onlooker {as the men roll on the ground) : No 
gougin' ! Gougin's no fair! 

Others: Wallup him right while you're at it, 
Lige. Give him a whalin'. 

A Woman : The land sakes, what a ruction ! 

Onlooker (egging them on) : Who stole a cake 
out'n the fire ? 

Another: Who went to the woods with no 
scalpin' knife ! 

Fiddler (impatiently waving his fiddle) : Hey, 
there, hey! You're spilin' the frolic. Wait till to- 
morry and tear yourselves plumb to bits if you want 
to. 

Onlooker: 'Twouldn't be no loss, nohow. 

A Woman: We ort to hate 'em clean outen the 
settlement. 

Another: Huh! Tongue-lashin' won't hurt 
them tough hides none. 

[The men pull the fighters apart forcibly.]^ 

Lige: I did! 

Zip: You didn't! (As he is dragged hack.) 
Any feller as says you did — I'll lick him twice ! 

Woman (to Lige) : Lemme put some vinegar on 
that there eye of yourn. [She ties up his eye with a 
plaster and they join the others.] 

Zip (to Fiddler) : Tune up Ole Sal, and lei 
her go! 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 27 

[The Fiddler strikes up Pop Goes the Weasel 
and the dancers^ young and old, form two lines 
for the dance. A few onlookers sit hy and make 
suggestions or comments, or pat their hands in 
time to the music. All sing as they dance, and 
the Fiddler calls the changes : 

All around the cobbler's bench, 

The monkey chased the weasel ; 
The peddler kissed the cobbler's wife, 

Pop goes the weasel ! 

A penny for a cotton ball, 

Another for a needle; 
That's the way the money goes, 

Pop goes the weasel ! 

My wife she is awful sick, 

The baby's got the measles; 
Sally's got the whooping cough, 

Pop goes th*e weasel ! 

[/w general they dance with much earnestness. 
Occasionally a youth trips up a girl as she 
passes, so that he can catch her to keep her 
from falling, hut the others frown upon this, 
as it spoils the dance. When the children grow 
troublesome they are slapped and put out of the 
set. When a man and his partner drop out of 
the dance and find hut one stool unused, he holds 
her on his lap."] 

[When this dance is finished some one calls loudly 
for Old Dan Tucker, and amid much laughter 
one man is pushed into the center of the circle 



28 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

to be Tucker. They dance and sing as be- 
fore: 

Old Dan Tucker was a nice old man, 
He used to ride the Darby ram, 
It sent him whizzing to the foot of the hill, 
If he's not got up he lies there still. 

Chorus : 

Out o* the way for Old Dan Tucker, 
Come too late for to get his supper, 

Out o' the way for Old Dan Tucker, 
Come too late for to get his supper. 

Old Dan Tucker's still in town, 
Swingin' the ladies all around. 
First to the east, then to the west. 
Then to the one that you love best, 

(Chorus.) 

[There is much teasing of the left-over youth who 
becomes TuCKER at the end of each change in 
the dance. As they are dancing^ a conch shell 
sounds at the right and a boy enters blowing 
the shell lustily, then calling : 

Potpie's ready, hot an' bilin'. 
Jest a-spilin', come a-pilin'. 

\_The dance breaks up with much laughter. The 
men wipe their moist brows with their sleeves 
and puff noisily.'] 
Hank (smacking his lips) : Um! Chicken pot- 
pie. That's the stuff that sticks to your ribs I 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 29 

Bill : That's no lie. No slops for me,inor spoon 
victuals, neither. 

\_They seize the baskets of corn and the stools and 
rush of, singing Old Dan Tucker.] 

Interlude II 

{^The children run out laughing. The Story- 
Man holds his staff against his chest and is 
sawing away with his bow arm as if he were 
playing a fiddle, while the children caper about. 
Then he lays his staff on his shoulder, half pro- 
jecting in front and half behind. The children 
each seize one end of it and, singing Old Dan 
Tucker, dance round and round him.] 
Story-Man : That's a great how-de-do, twisting 
a poor old fellow up like that ! 

Girl: You like it, you know you like it, just as 
much as we do ! 

Story-Man : Maybe so, maybe so. 
Girl: Oh, didn't they have fun! Let's all go 
back to settlement times! I like them best of all. 
Boy : I like the Indians best. 
Story-Man {shaking his head) : Those days are 
all gone by, folks say — and yet they've not gone 
either. Your other eyes will tell you that our days 
are good because those other days were here before 
us, and the future will be made, it's likely, from what 
our days are now. 

Boy (doubtfully) : We haven't any such good 
times now. 



30 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

Story-Man : Listen ! I think I hear your play- 
mates coming now. 

\^A burst of childish laughter comes to them. The 
Story-Man turjts as if to go. The Girl clings 
to him at first ^ then looks back, hesitates, and 
joins the other children as they enter. The 
Boy, more resolute, marches out at once to 
join them. The Story-Man stands to one side, 
rubbing his hands and looking at them all de- 
lightedly.'] 

Episode III 

To-Day and To-Morrow 

[A large group of children approaches. Some of 
them are blowing tin horns or beating drums. 
Some are singing London Bridge is Falling 
Down, or other childish jingle and all are happy 
and gay. As they reach the pageant field, each 
group begins its own activity, as if oblivious of 
all the others, and the field is a scene of great 
liveliness and many shifting groups. Always 
some one group holds the center and focuses the 
attention of the audience upon a phase of work 
or play which reflects the life of the previous 
episodes. Each group holds the center for 
only a few minutes, then gives way to another. 
The center groups may include \ 

1. Campfire Girls in Indian dress prepare to 
build a ceremonial fire. 

2. Boy Scouts, or any other group of boys. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 31 

give first aid to a wounded comrade and carry 
him of in a stretcher. 

3. Little Boys in Indian suits play Indian. 

4. Little Girls play singing games. 

5. Corn-Club Boys and Girls contest at corn 
stringing. 

6. A Group of Girls presents a rhythmic 
dance. 

7. A Group of Boys plays paper chase or hare 
and hounds. 

While the children are playing the groups of char- 
acters from the other episodes enter silently 
and arrange themselves lit the rear of the field 
as a background. In the midst of their playing 
the Story-Man claps his hands vigorously, 
and the Boy and Girl run to him.'] 
Story-Man : This is to-day, built up from all the 
days that used to be. (Waving his staff.) See how 
your friends of other times look down upon you, 
now, and wish you well. ( The children turn in sur- 
prise to stare at the silent groups behind them, but 
show no fear.) Our days will grow and grow into 
the future. 

Girl: What do you mean by that? 
Story-Man: The future is to-morrow and the 
next day and the next. Can't you see her coming? 
Open your other eyes and look. Open your eyes 
wide ! 

[He points to the left and the children turn to 
look. They watch as the Spirit of the Fu- 
ture, a tall girl in a simple Greek robe, ap- 



32 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

pro aches to the sound of music from hidden 
instruments,^ 

Children {eagerly) : Who are you? 

The Future: I am the Future. I am to-mor- 
row and to-morrow and to-morrow, and you are 
mine — you children — for your days are all to-mor- 
rows. There are no Indians for you to fight- 

Boy (eagerly) : I wish there were. 

The Future (smiling at him) : But there are 
tasks as great and difficult. You must fight the love 
of self, the stupid waste of human happiness, and 
all the evil forces that array against our better life. 

You need not hew the forest to make a path to 
your good neighbor, but you must run the shining 
roads — to every farthest farmhouse all the country 
over. Over these roads the children and their elders 
will ride for study and good times together, the farm 
crops will go speeding to the markets, and the post- 
man will bring the people all the story of the 
world. 

You need not dip your candles nor make round 
cups of clay for bear-grease lights. Yet you must 
stretch away those slender wires — to every home, to 
bring the heavenly current that will light the house 
and turn the wheels and lift the heaviest burden of 
their toil. 

You need not chop the trees to build a cabin for 
your home — yet build you must — and greatly. I 
see great houses rise where all the people gather 
for worship and for learning, for plays and games 
and sports of every kind. There you can help each 
other in your work and in your play, and neighbors 
will be neighbors, then, indeed. 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 33 

To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow — see, 
I come! Can you not catch the vision? Come, and 
help me make it true. ( To Story-Man. ) We need 
you, sir, with your good tales of Indians and pio- 
neers. Open our other eyes and other ears lest we 
forget those yesterdays from which we grew. ( Turn- 
ing to audience, ) And, oh, to-day, we need you most 
sincerely. Set for us that foundation, strong and 
sound, for on that I, To-morrow, stand and there we 
build the days that are to come. ( To the Boy and 
Girl, with a gesture toward the quiet groups below 
her.) But most of all I need you children. That 
fair to-morrow men have dreamed of will be great 
only if you are great. Yours are the brains and 
hands that shape the future, yours the feet that 
run its errands here and there. Will you come? 

All the Children {jumping up as if to follow 
her) : Yes, oh, yes ! ( The Boy and the Girl cling 
to her robe and the least child of all climbs up the 
steps toward her. All stand looking as if longing to 
go. The FUTURE stretches out her arms to the chil- 
dren,) And you will help me bring that new day 
to the world? Then put your right hand up — oh, 
very high. 

[The children wave their hands eagerly. '\ 

Girl {wildly , as the Bogy-Man enters, and the 
children shrink back in greai fear) : Oh, there he is 
again ! 

The Future : Who Is he? 

Story-Man: He is the Spirit of Distrust of 
Happiness, Tve heard say, and never any place nor 
any time is safe from him. He is the kill-joy to 
every kind of innocent pleasure. 



34 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

[The children huddle together fearfully as the 
Bogy-Man goes in and out among them, 
mumbling to himself .1 
The Future : He cannot hurt them. 
Story-Man: No, but he fills their minds with 
fear of everything. He whispers, *'You are happy, 
something dreadful must be going to happen!'' Or 
he says, "You are happy. Repent! Happiness is 
wicked and you will burn in Hell!" 

Boy {indignantly) : But how does he know all 
that? 

Story-Man {shaking his head) : Nobody knows, 
nobody knows. He says he read it in the Bible — but 
IVe looked and looked and never found it there. 

The Future {to the Bogy-Man) : You have 
no place in this new life of ours. 

Story-Man {shaking his head sadly as the Bogy- 
Man moves toward the exit) : He goes, but he 
comes back again! 

The Future : Then he must not go ! My chil- 
dren, seize him! Do not let him go ! 

\_The Boy and another older hoy run after the 
Bogy-Man, chasing him a little beyond the en- 
trance and returning, dragging between them 
a dummy dressed exactly like the Bogy-Man. 
They drag him roughly up the steps before the 
Spirit of the Future, and make him stand 
or kneel before her."] 
The Future : Distrust of Happiness, you shall 
not rule my Kingdom of To-morrow. 

[The children have recovered from their fright 
and all look to The Future.] 



THE GOOD OLD DAYS 35 

The Future {to Distrust of Happiness) : 
With your old tales of dangers in pure childish joy, 
the Past has feared you, and the Present, but I, the 
Future, will grapple with you and show you for the 
vile thing that you are. 

[^She stoops and seizes DISTRUST OF Happiness 
by the shoulders^ then stands in triumph. The 
Bogy-Man has disappeared and in her hands 
are only wisps of straw and old gray rags. The 
Story-Man stretches out his hands as if to hid 
the Bogy-Man farewell.'] 
Boy {excitedly) : Why, he's nothing — nothing 
at all! 

Story-Man: He was a Superstition and he 
lived until the light of knowledge came and showed 
us what he was. Now we can follow freely where 
true knowledge leads. {He hows before The 
Future.) 

The Future {dropping the fragments of the 
Bogy-Man and stretching out her hands to the chiU 
dren) : And you will come? 

All the Children {crowding toward her) : 
Yes, oh, yes ! 

The Future {to the audience) : They come! 
They come! Success is to the strong, and we are 
strong. Let us lead the way from old good times to 
future days of better times than any in the past. 
Come, let us go ! Thus we shall serve our children 
— the fields we lovci — this nation that we love — and 
all humanity! 

[Spirit of the Future begins singing and all 
the children join with her. Song: 



26 THE GOOD OLD DAYS 

My native land, my country dear, 

Where men are equal, free, 
For thee each morn new love is born, 

Sweet land of liberty. 
With tears my eyes are filling fast. 

Yes, tears that joy awaits. 
With love I cry, "For you I'd die! 

My own United States." 

From golden youth to silver'd age, 

Tho' feeble feet may lag, 
With joy each heart bids age depart, 

When gazing on our flag. 
The flag that ever leads the van, 

Whose courage naught abates, 
The flag of youth, the flag of truth I 

My own United States. 

[^During the singing the final march is begun. The 
Spirit of the Future and the Story-Man 
lead the procession. The Boy and the Girl 
march next, and behind them the other children, 
marching two by two. If there is sufficient 
room the procession may make a few turns 
about the field before the exit at right. Then 
the pioneer and settlement groups, who have 
been singing while the others marched, continue 
the procession upon the field, the Indians in 
their war paint closing the parade.^ 

[Js the last figures disappear" a bugle sounds Taps 
for the end' of the pageant."] 



PLA YS FOR AMATE URS 

Between Two Lives By Charles William Burkett 

- Eight Male, Five Female Characters. Price 50 cents. 
Just the thing for amateurs. An ideal play for gn'a^ges, farmers' clubs, 
rural schools, agricultural schools and colleges and other organiza- 
tions in country districts. In three acts. Stage and costumes adapt- 
able to the simplest facilities. Play rich and full of the glory of 
country life. Full instructions for staging and costuming. 

The Cross Roads Meeting House 

By Mary Meek Atkeson 

Eleven Characters. In Three Acts. Price 35 cents. 

This splendid play presents the problem of the church in rural com- 
munities, pleasingly and sympathetically interpreting the life and 
characteristics centering about the historic crossroads communities 
of Rural America. Appropriate for any type of country gathering. 
This great play truly makes two smiles grow where only one grew 
before. 

The Good Old Days By Mary Meek Atkeson 

A Rural Pageant. 50 to 200 Persons. Price 35 cents. 

This magnificent Pageant of Country Life is just the thing for field 
day meetings, patriotic celebrations. Fourth of July, and for other 
occasions of community co-operation. Fifty to two hundred people 
in the cast. May be performed in improvised enclosures but is 
best adapted to out-of-doors. Prologue and laterludes and three 
Episodes. Wonderfully impressive and instructive. 

Don't By Mary Meek Atkeson 

Six Characters. One Act. Price 25 cents. 

A play in one act, expressive of the new point of view of the Amer- 
ican spirit of "Let's Do" instead of "Let's Don't.'' Three male, 
three female characters. Time about twenty minutes. Scene a farm 
house sitting room. One of the best plays possible for use in an 
entertaining program of any kind. 

The Will I By Mary Meek Atkeson 

Three Characters. Price 25 cents. 

A farce in one act. One male and two female characters. . For com- 
munity organizations. About twenty minutes. A fortune hunter is 
outwitted by two girls, one very clever and the other willing to 
forego an inheritance when she discovers that a fortune and nol her- 
self is the object. Then the real will turns up. Very good for any 
kind of programl 

ORANGE JUDD PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC. 
461-463 Fourth Ave. New York 



H25i 78 525 



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